


Homecoming Blues

by juurensha



Category: DC Extended Universe, DCU (Comics), Shazam! (2019)
Genre: Banter, Best Friends, Don’t copy to another site, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gen, Happy Ending, Homecoming Dance, Insecurity, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Snark, Teen Crush, Teen Romance, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 06:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18492832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juurensha/pseuds/juurensha
Summary: You would think that having faced down a supervillain and the seven deadly sins themselves (look, he may not have faced down Envy, but since Envy was technically inside scary bald old man, that still counted, right?), homecoming would be nothing.And yet, here they are, nearly a year into superheroing, the power of flight at his fingertips, and Freddystillwants to puke at the thought of asking anyone out.





	Homecoming Blues

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw Shazam and loved it and was like oh no, I have to write fic for it. I just really wanted a cute homecoming dance fic for them (and lots of mutual pining), so here we are. Hope you like it!

Homecoming was coming up.

More specifically, homecoming _dance_ was coming up.

You would think that having faced down a supervillain and the seven deadly sins themselves (look, he may not have faced down Envy, but since Envy was technically inside scary bald old man, that still counted, right?), homecoming would be nothing.

And yet, here they are, nearly a year into superheroing, the power of flight at his fingertips, and Freddy _still_ wants to puke at the thought of asking anyone out.

(Weren’t Shazam powers supposed to come with the courage of Hercules or something???)

Specifically—

Okay, so hypothetically he’d be pathetically grateful if _anyone_ asked him out (also that’d be great! It takes all the pressure off of him, and he’d be giddy at the idea of being _chosen_ , and it’s the 21st century, everyone should be able to ask everyone out—they aren’t in some kind of Sadie Hawkins L’il Abner strip after all—), but—

There is someone he’d really, _really_ like to go to the dance with.

Like, they’re probably already going there together since they’re best friends (he still can’t help but grin every time Billy says that) but he’d really like it if they could go together _together_ you know?

Of course, even going regularly together won’t be a thing if Billy gets a date all on his own.

It’s not that surprising that girls like Billy— _Freddy_ likes Billy after all, and Billy’s cute and has nice hair and a rare nice smile and makes him laugh and has cool awesome superpowers and looks out for him and sometimes carries his stuff and is always willing to zap a soda machine to get him some Dr. Pepper and generally listens to him—

 _Anyway,_ besides a couple of girls who asked him to ask if his superhero friend might want to go to homecoming dance (the answer is no—not just because of Freddy’s thing for Billy! Superhero identities are important! And plus, Freddy is pretty sure Billy would get arrested if he showed up in Shazam-form for a dance with a teenage girl), there’s a couple who giggled and asked if _Billy_ was taking anyone to the dance, and—

Well, he said no, because that’s the truth, and then they asked if there was anyone Billy _liked,_ and god, wouldn’t Freddy like to know the answer to that question too.

He thinks the answer is no?

Like, Billy had stared at the homecoming dance poster for a bit when it had first gone up, and when Freddy had jokingly asked if he had a hot date lined up (saynosaynosayno), Billy had blushed and stammered.

“No—do you?” he had asked, biting his lip.

Obviously the answer to that was no, and Billy has to know that, but it’s nice that he asked.

“Well, you know—Wonder Woman is still in mourning for Steve Trevor, so she said sorry, but she can’t make it,” Freddy said breezily, “And you know, no one else quite compares.”

(That’s a lie; Wonder Woman is obviously awesome and an Amazonian goddess, but—

To Freddy, no one—not even a literal Amazon—can quite compare to the boy who defended him and then shared his powers with his entire family.)

“You are going to be waiting awhile then,” Billy said dryly, hitching his backpack up, “In that case—I thought we could—hang out together there?”

Freddy’s face broke out into a grin (it’s always great when they’re on the same wavelength), “Yeah! I’ve got an idea—you want to be the distraction while I spike the punch?”

“You still have a really suspicious face—why don’t I spike the punch and you be the distraction?” Billy responded with a grin.

“Fiiine,” Freddy sighed, “Just because you’re a devious mind wrapped in the body of a kid that looks as if you’re about to go to a boy-scout meeting—”

“Hey, who bailed us out of the movie theater when we got caught watching _Us?_ ” Billy asked, crossing his arms.

“We wouldn’t have gotten caught in the first place if you hadn’t depowered to go to the bathroom!” Freddy pointed out.

“I couldn’t retransform; the lightning would have taken out the power to the theater!” Billy complained, “I still can’t find a zipper on the suit.”

“Yeah, I can’t either,” Freddy said glumly (if they ever manage to meet this wizard again, that’s going to be one of the first things Freddy asks about), “So you’re—not planning on asking anyone then? What if someone asks you though?”

Billy blinked at Freddy before flushing and looking away, “I don’t know, I mean—I guess it depends on who it is?”

So that probably means that Freddy should have relayed Madison’s and Shirley’s questions to him at that point, but Freddy—didn’t want to.

He still doesn’t want to.

He’s awkwardly mulled over their requests to put in a good word for them for _days_ now.  Like—should he tell Billy in the order they asked? Does it matter?

Or should he totally keep it a secret and then pretend that his flying powers stopped working to make Billy rescue him and carry him around and maybe spontaneously discover his previously unknown feelings for Freddy?

(Look—he doesn’t like being carried around—he doesn’t like being _helpless_ obviously, and plus, he can totally get around fine on his own, but—

But it would help Billy too right?

Like a reflex test and a secret sexuality test all bundled up in one like the teleportation/fireproof test?)

Mary is _very_ unimpressed with his idea when he tells her about it during a visit home from UPenn.

“That’s a dumb idea. What if you get hurt?” she demands, looking up from her discrete math problem set, “You didn’t get the full ‘stamina of Atlas’ part of the deal.”

“I can take hits just fine—did you see me go up against that bank robber last week—”

“Not my point,” Mary says, holding up a hand and barreling on, “If you want to figure out if Billy might like boys, you should just ask him—not come up with some strange rescue romance plan.”

“But like—rescue romance always works in the stories!” Freddy argues.

Mary gives him a flat look, “What are you reading? Oh no, don’t tell me—it’s that comic with Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor, isn’t it?”

“It’s really good!” Freddy says, “Like—obviously I know that certain liberties were taken with the actual historical facts of the story—yeah right Steve Trevor could infiltrate an Ottoman Empire base all on his own—but she definitely rescued him, and they fall in love!”

Mary sighs, “Freddy. Maybe—you shouldn’t use relationship advice from comics? They’re way too dramatic. If you like someone—”

“Oooh, does Freddy like someone?” Darla squeals as she walks into the dining room, putting her hands on her cheeks, “Who?”

“No one,” Freddy says automatically (if Darla knows, there’s no way Billy won’t also know within like, five minutes).

“Who, who, who, whowho _whowho_?” Darla demands, tugging on his sleeve and giving him her best puppy eyes (it’s really adorable, but he’s built up immunity. There’s only so many times a man can be forced to eat tofurkey or kale chips or other vegan monstrosities due to those eyes).

“No one,” Freddy repeats, pushing Darla off.

Mary takes Darla’s hand as she glares at Freddy, “Freddy here is _lying_.”

Darla gasps, covering her mouth with her hands, “No way Freddy! That’s so bad!”

“Yep, that’s me, total bad boy over here,” Freddy says, nodding.

“You wish,” Eugene retorts, walking over from his potty break from gaming.

“EugeneEugene!” Darla calls out, jumping down from Mary’s lap and hugging Eugene, “Do _you_ know who Freddy likes?”

Eugene raises an eyebrow, looking at Freddy, “Isn’t it Billy?”

Freddy chokes and starts coughing.

“Oh yeah, I guess that’s pretty obvious,” Darla muses.

“ _What_? How is it obvious?” Freddy manages to rasp out (some heroes, his siblings. See a man nearly choking to death, and they’re still just gossiping about his nonexistent love life that is totally _not_ obvious).

“You’re always together,” Darla says.

“You argue like a married couple,” Mary replies, getting back to work on her problem set.

“You always look weird when girls get close to Billy,” Eugene says, scrunching up his face in what Freddy guesses is a poor imitation of himself.

“I do not!” Freddy protests, “Billy—Billy can go out with whoever he wants to!”

Eugene frowns, “I thought you guys were already going out.”

“Same,” Pedro nods as he walks through the kitchen to get to his weights.

(The situation is much worse than he thought.

Like—he expected Mary to know, because Mary knows everything, but Eugene and _Pedro_ know too?

Can _everyone_ see his giant crush on Billy?

Does Billy know and has just been—avoiding rejecting him and just hanging out with him out of pity or something?)

“We’re not going out!” Freddy says frantically.

“Really?” Eugene asks, pushing his glasses up, “Why not? You obviously like him—”

“I don’t like Billy that way!” Freddy yells, “He can—he can go to homecoming with whoever he likes! I obviously do not care!"

(He cares so much that the thought makes acid crawl up his throat but whatever—

He can’t have his siblings blabbing to Billy and making things awkward.)

His siblings are all staring at him wide-eyed, Mary’s pencil hovering over her problem set, Darla’s eyes practically saucers behind her glasses, Eugene open-mouthed, and even Pedro looking mildly concerned.

“What?” he snaps.

“Oh,” a familiar voice says quietly behind him, “I’ll just—go.”

(Oh _no._ )

Freddy spins around to see Billy hurrying out the front door.

(Oh shit, oh shit, oh _fuck._

Billy heard _all that?_

And now he’s _running away?_

Does he—now that he knows, is there any more obvious sign of rejection than your crush running away from you?)

“Billy!” he calls out, hurrying up to the front door, “Billy, wait!”

Billy doesn’t even turn to look at Freddy, slipping away rapidly across the street and losing Freddy about as quickly as he did when he first arrived at their foster home.

(He really fucked up this time.)

\--

It’s been hours, and Billy still isn’t back home.

Freddy could try looking for him, but outside of using Shazam powers (and even then—Billy’s probably faster, unless he’s up in the air, then Freddy can probably beat him—but he doesn’t think Billy would really want to be flying around right now), there’s no way that Freddy can keep up with Billy running off. And even if he could run as fast as Billy, Billy has had a lot of experience with slipping away when he doesn’t want to be found.

All his siblings had already tried calling and texting him (Freddy had obviously tried too, but—obviously the last thing Billy wants to do is hang out with Freddy and his stupid crush right now) with no response, despite Mary warning Billy that she was going to leak that video of him when he had fallen asleep in Shazam form and drooled all over their desk, Eugene saying that he better come back before Eugene beats his Mario Kart high score, Pedro just telling him there’s been a misunderstanding, and Darla actually transforming into her Shazam form to zip around looking for Billy and calling out, “Freddy really likes you, please come back!” before Freddy also transforms and manages to catch her and bring her back.

“That’s not going to work,” he hisses, scrubbing at his burning face.

“Why not?” Darla demands, crossing her arms, “He probably just thought you were being mean—as long as he knows you just blurted out the wrong thing, he won’t be sad anymore!”

“I don’t think so, Darla,” Freddy says, slumping down on their porch step, “I think—I don’t know if he even wants to be friends anymore with me.”

Darla gasps, throwing herself next to him, “No! But why?”

“It’s—it’s kind of awkward when someone likes you, and you—don’t like them back,” Freddy says.

(Understatement of the _century_.)

Darla frowns, “…I don’t think Billy wouldn’t want to be friends with you just because of that. And plus, I think he likes you a lot!”

“Not that way,” Freddy says quietly.

“ _Yes_ that way,” Darla argues, hands on her hips, “He gets you presents and you guys always sit together and you hang out a lot _and_ Mary thinks so.”

(Okay the last one—

The last one kind of made his heart treacherously leap with hope because Mary is the smartest of all of them, and if Mary thinks so—

But she could be wrong, like the way Mary is super wrong about how cool the Transformers movies are, or how much fun calculus is, or that people at their school would love him.

And really, isn’t that much more likely?

After all—after all, he had already been so lucky to have Billy as a friend, and _beyond_ lucky to have Billy decide to share his powers with him. What more could he ask for?

No wonder Billy had run away—Freddy is always too much.)

Darla hugs Freddy, curling her small body so that she can attempt to get her short arms all the way around him, “Don’t be sad Freddy, it’ll be okay. Do you want me to sing something?”

Freddy sighs and manages to paste a smile onto his face, “Sure, Darla.”

And Darla sings some happy kid’s song she heard on T.V., and he goes along with it, and it’s fine, he guesses, even if Billy doesn’t even turn up for dinner, and Freddy just picks at his meal before clomping up to his (their) room.

He’s trying to decide if it would be worth texting Billy again (he’s already sent a string of ten messages that Billy has read but not responded to—is eleven when it gets creepy? Or did he hit that already? Should he just dig himself in even _deeper_?) when there’s a knock on the door.

“Hey Freddy?” Victor calls out, “Can I come in, buddy?”

“…did you know there’s a plant called a corpse flower that only blooms once every few decades and smells like rotting meat?” Freddy asks (maybe if he spills out enough gross facts, Victor will leave him alone).

“Oh yeah, didn’t one bloom in Chicago?” Victor replies, opening the door and walking in.

“Also—also we all probably have mites living in our eyelashes,” Freddy continues, “They’re called Demodex, and they embed themselves in our hair follicles—everyone has them.”

“If everyone has them, then we’re probably fine,” Victor says shuddering a little but still sitting down next to Freddy, “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Freddy mumbles, “Nothing at all. Everything is peachy keen and fine and dandy, and I definitely didn’t ruin everything with my big stupid mouth.”

“Hey, I’m sure you didn’t ruin _everything—_ that’s a lot even for you,” Victor says, slinging an arm around Freddy’s shoulders, “Is it about Billy?”

“How do you know that?” Freddy demands, pulling away, “Did Mary talk to you? Did Eugene? Did _Darla?_ ”

“Well, kind of a big clue when he didn’t show up to dinner, and when we ask where he is, all you kids looked awkwardly at you,” Victor says apologetically.

Freddy buries his face in his hands, “I fucked up _so bad_ ,” he groans.

“Hey—no cursing, and no you didn’t,” Victor says, rubbing his back in small circles, “If you guys had a fight or something—I mean man, me and Rosa had some _big_ fights when we were teenagers, let me tell you—but we managed to work it out in the end, and I’m sure you can’t even begin to reach the heights of stupidity I managed to when I was a kid.”

“No I—” Freddy scrubs his face and sighs, “But Rosa _liked_ you.”

“Yeah?” Victor says, furrowing his brow, “I’m not seeing the problem here, man.”

(Does he have to spell it out for him?)

“Billy—Billy found out I like him. But—he doesn’t like me back, so—so he ran away,” Freddy mumbles into his arms, putting his knees up to his chest.

Victor’s eyebrows shoot up, “Okay—I’m pretty sure that’s not the case. First off—Darla said that Billy thinks you don’t like him at all anymore?”

“I—everyone was going on about how they thought me and Billy were already going out, but we’re not—obviously—and I was trying to make them shut up about how _obvious_ it was that I liked him—so I yelled that I didn’t like him that way at all, and Billy heard but obviously I’m so _obvious_ that he—he definitely knows, but he doesn’t like me that way, so he’s avoiding me,” Freddy looks up miserably at Victor, “What if he avoids me _forever?_ ”

Victor hugs Freddy, “He’s not. Okay—so—a lot to unpack here, but—easier to deal with than Mary’s romantic woes, that I had to leave to Rosa—so first—don’t you think it’s more likely that Billy heard you yelling that you didn’t like him and was hurt?”

“…I mean maybe, but—in that case, why wouldn’t Billy just yell at me?” Freddy demands.

“Does Billy like to deal with problems head on?” Victor points out, “Besides—what if he liked you?”

“He doesn’t though,” Freddy says.

“How do you know?”

Freddy frowns, “I mean—why would he? He’s—normal and cute and smart and people like him—he’s got options.”

“Which you are one too,” Victor points out, “You’re funny and have more facts about capes and other weird stuff than an encyclopedia and plus—you and Billy are best friends and you like talking to each other and hanging out and stuff, and let me tell you buddy, that’s probably the most important thing. The rest of it is just fluff.”

(That sounds—

Victor’s an adult who actually _married_ his teenage crush, right?

And—and really isn’t that what he wants with a significant other anyway? To just hang out and be comfortable to share whatever he’s obsessed with this time and maybe get the chance to make out?

And Billy—Billy always listens to him, actually _remembers_ stuff he tells him and had been about as happy about the idea of the two of them hanging out together at the homecoming dance as he had been.

He really wants to believe it but—

He’s _so scared_.

If he messes this up—more than he’s already messed it up anyway—then where’s he supposed to go from there?)

“…but how do I—I already messed it up this much—Billy probably thinks that—even if he _did_ like me, he’s going to think I’m too much trouble now,” Freddy says dejectedly.

“You know, Freddy—a lot of people would have said me and Rosa were a lot of trouble, especially when we were younger,” Victor says thoughtfully, still rubbing calm circles on Freddy’s back, “Sometimes we even thought that about ourselves. But—here’s the thing about people who love you: you’re worth all that trouble to them.”

(He knows that a lot of people—really, _really_ short-sighted people had written Billy off as a runaway foster kid as well, but Freddy thinks those people are super dumb.

Even without his Shazam powers, Billy stood up for him, and obviously being granted powers by some old wizard _proves_ that Billy was always meant for greatness

And Billy—Billy never minds that he has to walk slower to keep pace with Freddy, he bickers with him about which comics to buy, and he _brought Superman_ to _their school cafeteria_ as an apology even if Freddy knows that whole situation was kind of his own fault.

Freddy knows that Billy cares about him, but—that way, really?)

“I don’t even know if he likes guys,” Freddy mumbles.

“Trust me, I’ve seen the way you guys stare and fawn over pictures of Superman—Billy likes guys,” Victor says dryly.

(Okay, Victor might have a point, but who wasn’t attracted to Superman?)

“And specifically—me and Rosa have had a bet going about you guys—which one of you was going to confess first—so I don’t think you have too much to worry about on that front,” Victor continues.

Freddy takes a deep breath, “…thanks Victor.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Victor grins, “Just make sure you ask Billy out before he can ask you out—or else I’m going to owe Rosa so many home-cooked meals.”

Freddy wrinkles his nose, “I definitely don’t want to eat your meatloaf for like a week—I’ll—I’ll go look for him and—try?”

(At the very least—he can try to clear the air and get them back to best friends, right?)

Victor nods, “Good. Oh also—I know we’ve already had the talk, but given the circumstances, I feel like I should go into a bit more detail—we already did this talk with Pedro, so I think I’m fully prepared to tell you about how you should never feel obligated to do anything you’re not comfortable with, but condoms and lube are very necessary if you do—”

“Oh my god please stop talking,” Freddy says frantically, putting his hands over his ears (gross, he doesn’t want _Victor_ talking to him about that! The normal talk from him was bad enough the first time around!), “I can google stuff!”

“Just remember that sometimes the internet has inaccurate information and that if anyone tries to pressure you to do anything you don’t want to do, you should try to knee them in the balls and then get help,” Victor says seriously, “And also, don’t pressure anyone else to do anything they’re uncomfortable doing.”

“Yeah, I know,” Freddy grumbles, “Look—neither of us would do that.”

“I know, but it’s good to reiterate,” Victor says, “And if you have more detailed questions, I think Rosa bought a book that you guys can refer to—”

“Bye!” Freddy says, scrambling up and grabbing his crutch to hurry out the door.

So—Billy could be lurking around the streets or zooming around saving people, but Freddy is thinking that if Billy wanted to think about stuff where everyone would leave him alone—well what better place than the lair?

Okay so yeah, the lair has creepy statues of the seven sins, but it also has no siblings barging in and out, or at least, not as easily as at home. Plus, besides him and Billy, the rest of their siblings don’t really like hanging around the lair—Mary thinks it’s damp and moldy, Eugene complains that there’s no electricity or wifi, Pedro thinks there should be more comfortable chairs, and Darla thinks it’s creepy.

So he pictures their lair in his mind, concentrates, and appears in the long, dusty hallway (Mary may have a point about it being damp and moldy—they should really get some fans in here—if only they had electricity…maybe Eugene can power it up with his lightning though?).

“Billy?” he calls out, walking towards the main chamber, footsteps echoing through the cavernous space.

Billy looks up from where he is sitting on the steps, “Freddy? You—what are you doing here?”

“Looking for you, obviously!” Freddy says, hurrying up to him.

Billy crosses his arms, “Why? I already got your message.”

“That’s not—when did you even walk into that conversation anyway?” Freddy asks.

“When you started yelling about how you definitely don’t like me ‘that way,’” Billy says, glaring at him.

(Okay so—

So Billy really didn’t hear the part where all their siblings had been teasing them then?)

“Okay so—I can explain! Darla and Eugene and Mary and even _Pedro_ were teasing me about how they thought we were already dating—”

“And it disgusted you that much that you had to yell about it?” Billy asks, his mouth twisting unhappily.

“No!” Freddy yelps, “No, I—it’s the opposite.”

“The opposite?” Billy asks, frowning, “So you were what—joking?”

 “I—” Freddy takes a deep breath, “No, I—I was worried that—that you’d hear them teasing me about it and—”

“And you hated the idea of the two of us together so much that you had to deny it?” Billy interrupts.

(Oh come _on._ )

Freddy groans, “Stop interrupting me! And leaping to the worst possible conclusion! And come on, dude, it’s _me_ saying that! Why do I even like you?”

Billy blinks at him, “You—like me?”

“Yeah, dumbass, I like you!” Freddy snaps on a roll (god—he can’t even do a heartfelt confession because Billy keeps getting the wrong idea!), “I don’t want you going to homecoming with anyone else—I want to go to homecoming with you!”

Billy’s mouth slowly arches up into a hesitant smile, “But—you said that—”

“Darla and everyone said I had a super obvious crush on you, and I didn’t want you noticing, so I started denying stuff! I lied! And that was super dumb of me, but I didn’t know you were right behind me and would _run away!_ Are you just sitting here with the seven sins and _brooding?_ ” Freddy demands.

“No—well—maybe,” Billy admits, stepping closer to Freddy, “Then—are you asking me to homecoming?”

“I—yeah, yeah I am,” Freddy says, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking down (oh great, now—now he feels like throwing up again, he’s so nervous), “You—if you don’t want to then you know that’s obviously cool too—it’d be really weird to go with me, right? Two guys—and we’re foster brothers—and Madison and Shirley want to go with you—”

“I want to go with _you_ ,” Billy says, reaching out and touching Freddy’s arm tentatively, “Like—like a date.”

“Really?” Freddy asks, looking up at him (he didn’t—he heard that correctly, right?), “Like—suit and dance and—and everything?”

“Yeah, if you want to,” Billy says, nodding, full-on grinning now and skimming down Freddy’s arm to touch his hand.

“I can’t—really dance though,” Freddy says awkwardly, motioning with his crutch.

“We can save the dancing for home if you want,” Billy says, grasping Freddy’s hand, “Or we can just—play video games or watch a movie or—or anything really. I just—want to do all that with you.”

“We do that anyway though,” Freddy points out.

“We could also make out,” Billy says with a completely straight face, although Freddy can see that his ears are pink.

(And Freddy feels like spontaneously combusting, but then he wouldn’t get to make out with Billy, so that’s a no go.)

Freddy laces his fingers through Billy’s hand, “Wow, you think I’m an easy kind of date, Billy?” he jokes.

Billy laughs, “Who’s gotten you snacks for the past year? And all those video games?”

“Huh. Is this what being a sugar-baby feels like?” Freddy muses.

Billy snorts before looking him in the eye, “If you want flowers though, I’ll bring flowers.”

“Shouldn’t I be bringing flowers? I’m the one who asked you out!” Freddy points out.

“Yeah, but—I’m older. And taller,” Billy says, standing up straight.

“Whatever! You never know, I could hit my growth spurt like _tomorrow_ ,” Freddy argues.

“…we could both bring flowers?” Billy suggests.

Freddy nods, “Yeah, okay! Prepare for the most awesome bouquet ever, Billy!”

“Can’t wait,” Billy grins down at him, and he’s so close, and—

(And while Freddy badly wants to kiss him, he really doesn’t want to do it in front of the seven deadly sins, ugh, gross.)

“No kissing until I get my flowers though!” Freddy says, poking Billy’s chest with his finger and then feels like slapping himself (why did he say that? He should have said until they got _home_!)

Billy just smiles at him and nods, “Okay. Can we—can we hold hands though?”

“Aren’t we doing that already?” Freddy asks, holding their hands up.

“Yeah, but like—whenever?” Billy asks, squeezing Freddy’s hand.

(Is this what having a boyfriend feels like?

Floaty and giddy?

Freddy could get used to this.)

“Y—yeah,” Freddy nods quickly, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Billy’s smile looks like the sun peeking out of a window, “...I really like you, Freddy,” he says shyly.

“Ireallylikeyoutoo!” Freddy manages to get out although not before his face turns entirely red, and they both laugh and it’s—

It’s so nice.

They go home, Darla wakes up the entire house by squealing when she sees that they are holding hands, Victor whoops when he hears that Freddy asked Billy out technically (“So many tamales, baby!”), Rosa kisses both of them on the head, Mary rolls her eyes but congratulates both of them, Eugene just says that it’s about time, and Pedro just pats both of them on the back.

Later, Freddy goes and gets Mary and Darla to help him come up with an awesome bouquet for Billy (he might have had to dip into the busking money for it, but come on, totally worth it). It’s a splendid array of red chrysanthemum with lavender and white heather as accents, and Billy’s smile is practically blinding when he gets it.

Billy did almost one-up him by giving him a bouquet of blue hydrangeas and purple and white lilac because Rosa had helped him (Victor and her had probably come up with another bet).

“You totally one-upped me,” Freddy groans as they’re at the dance, “It’s like, completely color coordinated.”

“I don’t know, I really like the one you gave me,” Billy says before twitching his suit jacket so Freddy can see the bottle of cheap wine he had tucked under his arm, “You ready to spike the punch?”

“Hell yeah,” Freddy grins, punching his shoulder before going off to loudly be a distraction.

And later, when they’re happily (if clumsily, because really, neither of them have done it before—Freddy hadn’t even seen the point of slow dancing before, but now he kind of gets the appeal) twirling around their room, Billy shyly touches Freddy’s cheek as he leans forward, “Can—can I—?”

“Y—yeah,” Freddy manages to stutter out as he also leans forward, and then the two of them are _kissing,_ and—

Okay, there’s a lot of clacking of teeth involved, and spit, and fumbled elbows, but—they’re both laughing and breathless in wonder, and they have all the time in the world to figure it out _together_.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? Did you like Freddy's motor-mouthedness and Billy being a bit quiet but very sweet (let me tell you, Billy was the hardest one to write; he's a somewhat reserved character except in Shazam form where I feel like he feels more free to do whatever he wants) Please leave comments/kudos! 
> 
> Sadie Hawkins dance comes from the comic strip of Sadie Hawkins and L'il Abner. I decided to stick Mary in UPenn because it still has a very good compSci/Engineering program, and it's in Philadelphia, so she can go home as often as she likes! 
> 
> I specifically googled weird disgusting facts so that Freddy could spout some off. 
> 
> Red chrysanthemums symbolize love, while lavender heather represents admiration, solitude and beauty, and white heather symbolizes protection and indicates that wishes will come true. Hydrangeas represent heartfelt emotions and gratitude for being understood, while lilac symbolizes youthful innocence and confidence. White lilac specifically symbolizes humility and innocence, and purple lilac symbolizes first love. (Did I look up flower meanings and then google bouquet images just so I could come up with pretty bouquets? ....yes.)
> 
> I know it’s the courage of Achilles, but I doubted that Freddy or Billy would remember it accurately. Also—I still think it should be the speed of Achilles. His epithet is ‘swift-footed’ Achilles, come on.


End file.
